Shaddyr's Eclectic Collection > Pretender Fanfiction > Rebeckah > Reality Check

 

Reality Check
by Rebeckah
Part 2

 

"Well, Eve."  Rains broke the silence that followed.  "It's just you and me now."

This observation failed to cheer me but my obvious discomfort seemed to please Rains immeasurably.

"Follow me, girl."  He ordered curtly, walking toward the door without a glance to see if obeyed.  He'd summed me up that first visit, I knew.  We were both aware that I was afraid of Rains and wasn't about to risk angering him.  I wondered, not for the first time, why the accident hadn't thrown me into a totally unfamiliar reality instead of one where I knew just enough to get me in serious trouble.

I followed him down a confusing maze of corridors to an elevator and then through yet another maze of hallways.  As we passed the occasional white coated employee I was grateful that I at least had been allowed to start wearing the dark blue drawstring pants and shapeless shirt that were standard long-term, hospital patient garb.  A backless hospital gown would have been far too humiliating while walking  through the Centre.  The unflattering institutional garments were dehumanizing enough.

I ruthlessly suppressed the fleeting thought that this would be a good time to attempt an escape, with only Dr. Rains' feeble presence to keep me in line.  Not only was I completely lost inside this huge building, but I was also dressed in a fashion guaranteed to make me stand out like a sore thumb even if I did, by some miracle, manage to escape the building.  I had a strong suspicion, as well, that Rains had chosen this situation precisely to see if I did make an attempt to escape. I'd cooperated completely up to this point, but, unlike the others involved with me, Rains didn't underestimate my intelligence.  He knew that I had to have a pretty good idea of what he had planned for me and he further knew that I wasn't likely to be thrilled at the prospect. Apparently he wanted more evidence that I was resigned to my fate.  Or maybe he just enjoyed playing mind games.

Rains was completely silent as we traversed the halls.  He ignored me utterly, most likely as an object lesson on my status as a non-entity. It was effective.  Even though I knew that Rains was trying to destroy my self-esteem, to tear down any shred of individual initiative, I was unable to prevent myself from feelings of inadequacy and despair.  It  was a relief when he finally stopped and opened an anonymous door even though I knew this would be a prison of some sort.

I just hoped he'd forgotten about our "talk" and would leave me alone now.

It led to a rectangular, cell like room.  I recognized it as being identical to the rooms that had held Jarod and the other children of the pretender project.  The room had a hard, narrow cot with a simple wool blanket and thin pillow.  There was a small desk with a simple wooden chair, and a large mirror built into the wall over the desk.  I was sure that the mirror was really a one-way window and felt my unease grow at the knowledge that I could be watched now from just outside my room.  To distract my thoughts I switched to wondering if I was in the pretender project area or in the re-education wing.  My apprehension grew as I remembered that Rains could always decide to brainwash me, if he wanted to be certain of my total cooperation.

"Sit."  Rains ordered briefly.  I felt like a well-trained dog as I seated myself at the desk and picked up the pen that lay next to a yellow legal pad.

"You are remarkably cooperative for a person in your situation."  Rains said idly, seating himself behind me on the cot.  "I would have expected rebellion, tears, maybe even a hunger strike.  At the very least, I should think you would have subjected us to an attempt to convince us that we couldn't possibly get away with this.  The average person is depressingly unaware of what an illusion their so called "rights" really are.  Your lack of voice does not adequately explain your behavior."  He continued, almost as if he were musing to himself.  I knew better, though.  Rains was building up to something.

"There is also your dramatic reaction the first time you saw me.  As if you knew something about me that frightened you, even though I know that a previous encounter is an impossibility.  Perhaps you would care to enlighten me?"

Well, no, not really, my irrepressible alter ego thought disrespectfully.

The real me trembled with indecision, my mouth dry with apprehension. Would he believe me if I told him the truth?  I knew that nothing less would convince him---as bizarre as my story would seem, nothing else was even remotely possible.

"I will not ask again, girl."  He said, his blandness once again more frightening than an open threat.  I began to write.

"I recognized you as a character from a television program I like to watch.  I thought I had lost my mind."

"Parallel world?"  Rains was far more willing to believe than I had hoped.  "Tell me precisely what you know."  He ordered moments later.

"You are a member of a mysterious organization.  I suspect that this is The Centre, in Blue Cove, Delaware.  This organization kidnapped a little boy named Jarod from his family a long time ago so you could exploit his genius.  He escaped and you want him back."  I summarized, hoping that it would satisfy him.

"You know more than that."  Rains guessed shrewdly.  "You've cooperated entirely too willingly.  You're afraid of me and Johnson and Lisa swear that they've never even mention me to you."

I nodded my head slowly hoping he couldn't tell how hard my heart was pounding just then.  It was tolerable for him to know I was afraid, but not for him to know just how afraid.  So goes the reasoning of the helpless, trying to hang onto some control, no matter how insignificant.

"I know about Angelo, the experiments you conducted on Jarod where you killed him, that you are not handicapped by remorse or pity."  I showed him the answer on my pad, hoping that he wouldn't need to know more.  I wasn't even sure at this point if I could remember much more of the show than that, through my apprehension.

"You know me well."  He admitted.  I thought I caught an undercurrent of pride in his response.

"There's more, I'm sure, but you've told me enough, for now at least." He told me casually.  "You know too much to be trusted on the outside, as bait for a trap.  I suspect you are far too sympathetic to Jarod's cause.  On the other hand, you have Jarod's rare blood type, eliminating a host of reproductive complications, and you carry the all- important genetic code that produced him in the first place.  You will still be useful as the mother of his child."

I put my head down on my knees weakly as shock caused the blood to drain from my face.  My blood type was O+, not AB-, as I knew Jarod's was supposed to be.  How had that changed?  Not even a complete blood replacement---extremely risky in it's own right---could have changed my blood type.  The face in the one-way mirror had looked like mine, even if my short hair now curled and had more red in it than brown.  Who was I now, really?

"Not expecting that news?"  He studied me dispassionately.  "Why?  You must have known that we'd never have spent the time and effort to nurse you the health if you weren't special."

"My blood type is O+."  I wrote with a shaking hand.

"Not anymore."  Rains smiled complacently.  "Very odd.  I shall have to consult Allen and Walsh, but I suspect that you merged, on a cellular level, with the clone fetus that Walsh engineered.  That would explain the anomalies we detected in the DNA scan."

I shook my head, half in denial, half in an attempt to shake off the dizziness this conversation had aroused.

"You don't really exist, Eve.  You might as well accept that now.  We created you.  Even if you managed to actually escape this place, you'd be recaptured in days, maybe even hours.  Without an identity, you couldn't even get a job to feed yourself."  Rains got to the point of our conversation in a relentless barrage of statements designed impress upon me the utter hopelessness of my situation.  "I can, and will, do anything to you I desire, and no one will ever lift a finger to help you.  However, I am not an unreasonable man.  I am willing to give you an opportunity to prove your worth to me.  I treat those I find useful quite well, you know."

No, I didn't know that.  I'd seen him destroy at least three young lives on the show and every one of those children could have been useful to him if treated with simple respect.  He eyed me shrewdly before going on.

"Sydney may delude himself that Jarod can still be convinced to cooperate with us when we recapture him," he went on, once again as though talking to himself.  "But I know better.  Without an extraordinary incentive the boy simply will not cooperate.  Even with his own children as hostages we'd have to supervise him every moment to prevent sabotage and escape attempts.  However," Rains' fixed a demanding look on me.  "With the help of someone close to him, say the mother of his children, we might just get some use out of him while we wait for the children to grow up enough to be productive.  With the correct encouragement he might even be convinced to help us to train them."

They don't have him, I told myself encouragingly, willing nausea away. They can't do anything without him and he could possibly elude them forever.

"No, Eve, he won't."  Rains read my thoughts with terrifying ease.  "He may be a genius but his Achilles' heel is his obsession for righting injustices.  I've already set several traps with bait that he will find irresistible.  He'll try to save one unfortunate too many and once again be in our possession, undoubtedly before the year is out.  And this time he won't have the opportunity to escape again, if I have to keep him drugged senseless day and night to accomplish it."

I clung to my faith in Jarod's cleverness anyway, even though I'd often wondered why the Centre hadn't tried just such a trap to capture Jarod in the past.  I had to believe that Jarod would never be captured---the alternative was unthinkable.

"You'll lose that unwarranted faith in the boy soon enough."  He told me coldly, once again reading my expression all too accurately.  "And when you do, I just hope that you will be ready to consider my offer. If you cooperate and engage his affections---I'm sure you'd know how to do that---then your life will be significantly improved.  While you're considering your options, remember that you'll be doing the boy a favor, as well.  His life will also be improved if he's a productive member of the team.  I might even allow you some say in the upbringing of the children."  He smiled blandly at me, sure of the success of his arguments.

I shrank back from the monster sitting on the cot, not able to even attempt to hide my horrified denial.  How could he even contemplate that I would be a part of that kind of emotional blackmail?  Even if Jarod was a total stranger to me, he was discussing training children--- MY children, if he had his way----to be virtual slaves.

"In the meantime, you will continue to rebuild your strength."  He ignored my reaction with the confidence of the one holding the winning hand.  " And reflect on what I've said.  Life could be considerably better, or considerably worse, depending on whether you choose to be sensible or not.  Don't kid yourself.  You've had it downright easy up until now.  You don't want to know how bad it can be."

I brooded on Rains' message in the oppressive silence that filled the cell after his departure.  He was totally wrong when he implied I had no idea how bad things could be.  I had a pretty good idea of the arguments Rains could use to convince me that life would be better serving him than it would be standing on my ethics.  Physical violence would only be the first step in his campaign; I would be open to the same emotional torture he planned for Jarod, should I ever actually conceive a child.  After my emotional response to his plans he couldn't possibly miss how strongly I felt about the well being of children.

Now I wondered how long I had before he demanded an answer from me. And even if I did say I would cooperate, would he trust in an agreement obtained by threats?  Why didn't he just have me brainwashed and get it over with?  Maybe he thought Jarod would be able to detect brainwashing- ---but wouldn't he see coercion as easily?

I finally dropped the entire puzzle, deciding I couldn't figure it out on my own, and spent the next few hours adapting my Katas for the tiny space I now had to work with.  I worked myself to a state of complete exhaustion, trying to stave off unanswerable questions and speculations.  It didn't work.

My sleep was tormented by nightmares full of crying babies and menacing, faceless men.  I awoke repeatedly, bathed in sweat.  The fact that the light in my cell never changed made it hard to tell how much time had passed.  Finally, I got up again and repeated my Kata's until I couldn't stand up anymore.  I still couldn't sleep.

So he's begun the mental attacks, I speculated, lying on the cot and trying to relax enough to drift off.  He obviously didn't have much faith in the possibility that I'd cooperate willingly.  But light 24 hours a day, while a nuisance, was hardly a form of torture.  I wondered how long I'd have to wait before the next level of intimidation began.

I don't know how long it was.  Meals were served several times, but I couldn't detect a pattern that would indicate the passage of time.  I developed a pattern consisting of a frantic period of physical activity followed by an attempt to sleep.  I ate when I was hungry and had food available and ignored the meal if I wasn't hungry.  And I worried, and fretted, and eventually started losing weight that I couldn't afford to lose.  Finally, I started ignoring food, sleep, and exercise and just lay on the cot, watching the ceiling and concentrating on not thinking.

When Lyle entered my small cell I thought I was in the middle of another nightmare and didn't move from where I lay on the cot.  Lately it had become difficult to find the energy to move anyway.  A casually cruel backhanded slap split my lip and convinced me that I was awake. Suddenly I had energy again and I scrambled up and backed into the corner of the cot, pushing my thin pillow on the floor in the process.

"Hello, Eve."  He smiled, a charming, open expression that was  diametrically opposed to the cruelty in his eyes.  I huddled with my back pressed into the corner and my arms clutched protectively around my knees.  Later I realized that I'd instinctively chosen that position because it allowed me to protect the most vulnerable parts of my body.

"I won't expect you to answer me," he continued, his voice as affable and casual as if he were visiting with a good friend.  "Rains explained that you've---lost---your voice."

I watched him, feeling like a trapped animal waiting for slaughter. Once again I cursed my foreknowledge of the character of the people around me.  If I'd been ignorant of Lyle's penchant for cruelty and violence I wouldn't have been nearly as frightened.

Now begins the physical argument.  My ever-calm internal companion offered as a matter of fact.

I know that, you moron!  I screamed at myself.  Now tell me something useful!

"He asked me to stop by and explain to you just how bad life can be." He confided, seating himself next to me on the cot and running a gentle finger along the red mark his hand had left on my cheek.  I flinched back, straining away until my head came against the wall beside me.  My eyes were closed, anticipating another blow, but instead his finger came to rest on the trickle of blood oozing from my lip.  He wiped it off with his index finger and my eyes flew open in shock as he studied the bright red fluid with frightening fascination.

"You see," he fixed a mesmerizing stare on me,  "I do so enjoy convincing people to cooperate." He held my horrified gaze as he slowly licked the blood off the tip of his finger.  My heart was beating so hard that my entire body shuddered with each beat and my stomach rolled queasily.  His gambit was successful-----I was completely terrified.

I could feel my mind retreating as Lyle slowly stood, bulling me up from the cot with an iron grip on my upper arm.  By the time the first blow fell I was completely removed from everything connected to my body.  I observed the brutality of the next several minutes from a safe place outside my body, grateful that I'd discovered the trick of detachment many years ago.

I eventually blacked out.  I still don't know if I fainted, or was knocked out, or if I just simply willed my mind to completely shut down.  The next thing I was aware of was the cold cement floor pressing against my cheek and a medley of painful sensations.

"Oh my God, Eve!  What happened to you?"  Johnson's absurdly young voice penetrated the red fog of pain that surrounded me.

Funny, my irrepressible alter ego mused.  I didn't remember that pain is red.  I felt myself being lifted and laid on the narrow cot.

"Eve, Eve!  Look at me."  He demanded insistently.  "Tell me what hurts!"

Everything!  I scoffed to myself.  And how the hell am I supposed to talk without a voice, you imbecile?  Once again I wanted to slap some sense into the kind, but incredibly stupid, man.  I settled for prying open the one eye that wasn't swollen shut so that Johnson would know I at least heard and understood him, even though I wished he'd just go away and let me suffer in peace.

"Don't be absurd, Larry."  Nurse Lisa's voice showed more animation, in  her disgust, than I'd have thought she could stand.  "Rains cut the girl's vocal chords, remember?"

"Eve?"  Her gentle voice and touch on my battered face drew my attention.  "Can you tell us how bad it is?"

I forced myself to sit up, wincing as every movement brought more bruises to my attention.  Lisa, wisely, held Johnson back from helping me.  Lyle had done a good job and very little of my upper body remained unblemished.  His help would have hurt worse than the actual movements.  I knew that my face was puffy and discolored and I suspected that lip-reading would be pretty hopeless at the moment, so I mimicked writing.  Lisa immediately handed me the legal pad and pen from the desk.

"I'm going to hurt for some time, but nothing is broken."  I wrote, using my left hand because my right wrist ached abominably.  I wondered, faintly, just how I'd managed to sprain it.  "I'm sure Rains ordered Lyle not to do any permanent damage."  I added as a matter of fact.

"Rains ordered this?"  Once again Lisa and I exchanged speaking looks. I was finally starting to understand the silent message the nurse had tried to give me when I first woke up.  Maybe if I'd understood then how dangerous actual intelligence was going to turn out to be for me, I would have pretended to be the vegetable they'd all wanted.

"You'd have done better to play dumb."  She whispered in a barely audible voice, using the excuse of examining a bump on my scalp to put her lips near my ear.

I couldn't argue with that.

"There isn't much we can do, Dr. Johnson."  Now Lisa retreated to her cold nurse's persona, but I could still see sympathy lurking in her eyes.  I guess acting ability is definitely an asset when you work for the Centre.  "It appears to mostly be fairly superficial contusions."

"Let's get some ice packs on the worst of the bruises, and definitely on that eye," Johnson responded, functioning much better now that he was acting within familiar parameters.  "And we'd better put some antiseptic on the broken skin."  He pulled a pencil thin flashlight out of his pocket and began checking the responsiveness of my pupils.

Lisa nodded, pulling an ice pack off of the small cart that they had brought with them.

"I'm really sorry about this, Eve."  He told me, gently pressing the ice to my right eye, which had almost swollen shut.  I shook my head slightly, it wasn't his fault after all, but I don't know if he understood my silent message.  As I may have already mentioned, he wasn't the most perceptive man around.  When I lifted my left hand awkwardly across my face to hold the pack Johnson finally registered that I was protecting my right.

"Damn!"  He growled, pulling my arm forward probing the swollen flesh. I pulled back, instinctively trying to push him away from me and stop the pain he was causing.

"Stop it, Eve!"  He muttered.  "I need to know if it's broken."  He fended off my initial jerk for freedom easily.  He was stronger than I wanted to give him credit for!   The probing gentled, though, in response to my silent protest.  I tapped him on the shoulder, getting his attention, and spelled the word, s-p-r-a-i-n-e-d, with my left hand.

"We're going to have to x-ray this wrist."  Johnson called over his shoulder to Lisa, ignoring my diagnosis.  "We'll need a wheelchair."

Eventually the poking and prodding was finished and I was returned to my Spartan cell.  The sprained wrist had been wrapped with an ace bandage, an ice pack rested once again on the badly blackened eye, and the rest of my body ached with varying degrees of intensity.  Rains had refused Johnson's request to give me a painkiller, condescending to explain that a painkiller would nullify the effect of the lesson.

"I want her to remember this."  He'd announced---his voice as dry as fall leaves.  I watched sympathetically as another rampart in Johnson's wall of obtuseness crumbled and fell.  It was strange, but I almost felt guilty to be the catalyst that tore away the stubborn ignorance he'd surrounded himself with.  I had to keep reminding myself he'd have eventually been confronted reality anyway.  No one could work for the Centre and remain as naive as Johnson forever.

I carefully kept my sympathy to myself, however.  I didn't want to give Rains any more ammunition against either of us and I knew he was watching me carefully.  I wondered what he was making of the fact that my face was set in a grim mask of neutrality.

It was involuntary, a response pounded into me with years of abuse.  I could have no more shown emotion at that point than I could fly.  But Rains was a gifted sadist, I knew.  He'd be reading something into my
reaction, or lack thereof.

Now what?  My internal companion questioned calmly as soon as the door closed behind the others, giving me the solitude I desired so fervently.  That aspect of my internal self never felt fear, or pain, or anger---she just carried on through every disaster in my life, watching and commenting.

Yes, I answered myself, now what?

Well you'd better figure out what he wants, and give it to him, or you know Lyle will be back.

We know what he wants!  He wants our soul!  I'm not giving that to anyone.

No, my other self agreed, we can't give up our soul.  But can we handle any more encounters with Lyle?  Look at you---you're already thinking and feeling the way you did a decade ago.  All your progress, all your hard won self esteem, its starting to slip away already.

Maybe that will turn out to be Rains fatal error, I argued back, I've lived through fear and abuse before.  I have survival skills he isn't expecting.

We'll see, my alter ego responded skeptically.

You're a big help!  Go away now---I'm going to rest.

I pushed away the skeptical, analytical portion of my mind and rolled over on my side to face the wall, protecting myself at least a little from prying eyes.  Then I reached backward in my mind, far back to a beautiful place I'd created for myself when I was 8 years old and needed to escape an ugly reality.  It was still there.

I could smell the apple and cherry blossoms and I walked in the sun- dappled orchard, enjoying the gentle breeze in my hair and the golden rays on my skin.  I found my favorite tree and climbed it, settling into the wide crotch that was higher than the tallest man I knew.  I was safe again and pain was just a distant memory as I drifted gently to sleep.

I was pulled from my rest long before I wanted to awaken by the conviction that I was no longer alone.  I rolled over on the cot, ignoring countless messages of pain from every part of my body, and saw Rains sitting patiently in the hard wooden chair.  My heart lurched painfully; would his presence trigger another session with Lyle?  My face, however, remained frozen into the same blank lines that had claimed it immediately after the beating.  I sat up slowly, preferring to deal with whatever was coming next from an upright position.

"I find your reactions, or rather, your lack of reactions, most intriguing, young Eve."  Rains began abruptly, his reptile cold eyes fixed on me intently.  Once again my heart lurched, but I revealed the renewed fear with only the barest flicker of my eyes.

"You respond to violence like a veteran.  The way you sit when Lyle is in the room--in a corner, huddled up to present the least possible open area, your lack of expression, falling asleep after an encounter guaranteed to leave you weeping in a corner for days---who trained you?"

I pulled my eyes up from the floor to Rains face.  Surely he didn't expect me to answer that?  Yes, the gently inquisitive look on his face proclaimed, he did.

I knew the sign for father and I quickly made it, looking firmly at the floor.  I didn't want to see the comprehension in his eyes or see him plotting to use it to his benefit.

"I see."  I heard the understanding that I was trying to avoid in his voice.  "Well, it would seem you know how to play the game then."

It's not a game from my end.  I thought resentfully, still focused downward.

"Look at me, girl!"  Rains demanded sharply.  My head raised slowly, but I obeyed.

"You realize this changes things, don't you?"  He asked me, genial now that his authority had been confirmed.  I stared stonily at him, making no response, but he didn't really seem to need one.

"I imagine that you already know too much about pain to be properly trained."  He mused.  "You'd pretend to cooperate, just as you've done since the first day you saw me, but I see the rebellion in your eyes, girl.  You're simply biding your time."

His eyes narrowed as he examined me intently, looking for something inside me, but I couldn't guess what.

"Fear will only motivate you if the threat is imminent, but as soon as we leave the room you will return to your plotting.  I'm not even sure we could re-educate you properly."  He used the Centre's sanitized term for brainwashing blithely, making my jaw clench in an effort to remain blank.  "However, you do bruise well."  He looked at my mottled skin like an artist contemplating a painting.

"Very well, Eve, I'll just have to make use of you as you are.  I think your natural personality will be quite effective as it is, in fact, this might possibly be better.  You've already won the sympathies of both Johnson and Lisa---and I thought Lisa was downright invulnerable--- with your fragile air of stubbornness."

Rains paused, I think it was second nature for him to look for a reaction in his victims.  Finding no response, or at least not the one he wanted, he prodded at my emotions again.

"Jarod's protective instincts won't stand a chance against your pathetic little, I-can-handle-it attitude.  He'll find himself doing anything to spare you more pain.  Yes, I think this will work out quite well.  You just rest now."  He chuckled shortly.  "I'm sending a hot drink to you--make sure you swallow it all."  He ordered from the doorway.  I was looking at the floor again, jaw clenched so tightly that my molars hurt, but I gave a brief nod, acknowledging his order.

"That's my girl!"  He approved, shutting the door behind him with a decisive click.

Now what?  My alter ego demanded in the silence that followed.

SHUT UP!  I told it firmly.

The hot drink was an herbal tea of some sort.  Usually I love herbal teas but this one was tongue numbingly bitter.  I followed directions, though, and drank it all.  My suspicion that it was drugged was confirmed as a strange lassitude swept over me in the minutes that followed.  I didn't even try to resist sleep as crept irresistibly closer.  I didn't want to think, I didn't want to hurt, and I found myself once again praying that I'd just wake up in my own bed as I sank into oblivion.

This time when I awakened I was in a queen bed, in a room that seemed so normal that I believed, just for a moment, that I had dreamed the entire nightmare episode and was now back to my real life.  Bruises and hot, swollen welts pulled me back to reality.

I hissed through my teeth as I cautiously pulled myself into a sitting position. Tender skin pulled over contusions, threatened to break where it had scabbed over, and reminded me why I avoided men wherever possible.  I associated these sensations with men, which made it amazingly easy to remain single and unattached.

Now why did they move me?  And why while I was out?  I wondered, looking around the large room as soon as I'd reached an upright position.  My new accommodations were the proverbial guilded cage.

Ah, yes.  I forgot.  Never pass up the opportunity to impress upon the subject her total state of helplessness.  The sooner you convince her she can't resist your power the sooner you can start thinking for her. Either Rains had changed his mind about leaving me alone, or he simply didn't know how to stop playing mind games.  Or maybe this was all just part of his new scheme.

I knew that the more I moved the easier it would become, so I forced myself to stand up and begin exploring my new quarter.  It was easily ten times larger than the previous room and the two doors on different walls hinted that I might even have a suite!  I went to a pair of blue velvet curtains on the far wall and pulled them back to reveal a painting of a scenic view of the ocean.

Only in the Centre.  I thought with disgust.  Why have real windows when you can have fake ones?  Of course I was undoubtedly still in the extensive underground portion of the Centre, but still, why pretend there was a window at all?  I left the curtains open; at least the picture was pretty.

An expensive wardrobe was waiting in the double closet.  It was a little large, but no doubt intended to fit me after I'd put on some needed weight, but the clothing was of the highest quality. I noticed the long, white silk nightgown I wore, feeling a little queasy at the thought of someone handling me while I was unconscious.  Who knows what they did to me while I was unaware?

Ignore it.  My internal commentator advised.  There isn't a thing you can do about it now and worrying about "might haves" will only play into Rains' sick game.

I continued my exploration, resolutely pushing apprehension to the back of my mind.  There was a wide chest of drawers, with the mirrored back and triangular nick-knack shelves framing the mirror.  The shelves had been decorated with delicate china figurines.  The drawers contained jeans and T-shirts, exercise outfits in silk and Lycra and extensive array of lingerie.

The tall chest of drawers held men's clothing, as did the second half of the closet.  Obviously this was where Rains intended Jarod and I to play house.  I wondered if I was going to find a nursery on the other side of one of the two doors in the room.  In a small room in the back of my mind panic beat frantically on the door I'd locked on it.  Time was running out, I could feel it in my bones and I still had no idea what I could do about it.

The first door opened easily to my cautious touch--it had no lock.  A larger room waited on the other side, set up like a living room.  There was the typical couch, overstuffed with color coordinated pillows, an easy chair and a recliner, and coffee table in the center.  No TV or radio, though, nothing to distract my mind with concepts of a life outside the Centre.  Nor were there any books, magazines, papers, pencils, or anything else that might occupy my mind.  Maybe Rains thought I'd find boredom more torturous than physical blows.

Not while I have me imagination.  I thought smugly, my mind flashing quickly to my pleasant orchard retreat.

There was another door in the living room, on the wall directly opposite the one I'd entered through.  It proved to be locked from the outside, so I returned to the bedroom to try the second door.

It was also sans lock and it opened to reveal a lovely bathroom with a large sunken tub and separate shower.  The bathroom vanity had an array of bath oils, bubble bath, soaps, and after bath body sprays.  I debated with myself for a moment---did I care that I had no way to ensure my privacy?

No, not really.  I decided practically.  After all, even if there had been a lock there would undoubtedly be cameras hidden everywhere. Mentally resigning whatever voyeur currently watching me to perdition, I chose a bath-oil scented with lilac and ran myself a hot bath.

In a short time my abused skin was soaking in the heat and soothing oils and my abused sensibilities were relaxing with the pampering.  I took Rains advice, though, and didn't kid myself.  I wasn't in any better situation than I had been in the little cell. I didn't know why Rains had chosen to improve my situation, but my feeling of imminent danger grew.  I feared, greatly, that his trap was closing in on Jarod.

When I finally emerged I choose a loose, drop waisted, silk dress with long, loose sleeves and slipped it on.  I ran a brush through my short curls and re-entered the "living room", feeling almost human again. That lasted until I saw Lyle relaxing in the recliner.

I stopped dead in my tracks and swayed slightly with the shock.  Lyle watched me with a small, self-satisfied smirk but he didn't move from his relaxed pose.  I took a deep breath and forced my feet forward, settling into the easy chair that faced the recliner with the coffee table in between.  This conversation would set the tone between the two of us most likely for the remainder of my stay in the Centre.  I really wanted it to be a calm tone.

"Like your new accommodations?"  He asked with a perfect imitation of friendly concern.  I nodded, knowing that my face showed my wariness, but unable to pull on my impassive mask.  He'd caught me off guard, doubtlessly on purpose.

"Good, Rains was concerned that you find everything to your liking." Lyle went on.  "You aren't to worry yourself about anything, just relax and heal over the next few days.  Monday we'll resume your visits to the gym."  Lyle rose abruptly in what I was sure was a deliberate attempt to trigger my flinching reflex.  He wasn't disappointed.

"Also, you're to eat everything sent up, whether you want it or not. Apparently your dear friend, Dr. Johnson, is concerned by your failure to gain weight.  He's quite worried that you'll become ill---which, of course, none of us wants."  He loomed over me, a deliberate ploy to intimidate with body language, and cupped my cheek in a sick parody of tenderness.  I didn't move, physically, but I stilled as completely as a deer caught in the headlights of a car, withdrawing my mind to a quiet center that wasn't my safe place, but was a place I could reach my refuge in a heartbeat if I needed to.

"And, Eve---."  He breathed, his lips practically touching mine.  "Get over your shyness."  I stopped breathing, my mind on the verge of total flight, but he pulled back without actually touching me, the satisfied smirk back on his face.

So that's the tone he chosen to take, I thought numbly.  Not just physical intimidation, no that would be too simply for Lyle.  I wonder if this is Rains' idea or his?

Satisfied that I was properly motivated to obey instructions, Lyle sauntered to the door, letting in some faceless flunky carrying my breakfast on a tray.  He gave me a quick glare when I failed to move immediately toward the food, but seemed content when I correctly interpreted his look and hurried to the small table set against the far wall from the living room ensemble.  I was studying my depressingly healthy looking meal as he locked the door behind him and left.
 
 
 

Romantic Ending

Platonic Ending